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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28611195">you’re so right! | destiel ficlet comp.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzled/pseuds/jazzled'>jazzled</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Projecting onto Dean Winchester, Car Sex, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Comfort Reading, Denial of Feelings, Destiel Week (Supernatural), First Kiss, Gentle Destiel, Gentle Dom Dean Winchester, Gentle Kissing, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not really though, POV Castiel (Supernatural), SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Soft Dean Winchester, Stranded, The Impala (Supernatural), Unrequited Castiel/Dean Winchester, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, canon-typical squabbling, car kisses, castiel is bad at feelings, kind of sex????</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:01:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28611195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzled/pseuds/jazzled</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>sobs. i was trying to write a dinluke fanfiction but i randomly fell back into a little, well-deserved destiel torture. i’ve been writing these random ficlet drabble  things at almost four in the morning because my circadian rhythm was fucking ransacked by goblins and now i can never know peace.</p><p>and also partly because literally fucking hate dean winchester and his stupid little twunk boyfriend and their perfect facial structures and !!!!!! dumbass eyes like i hate those goddamn pretty ass boyfriends !!!!! my enby ass is having mental breakdowns over the gender envy i’m feeling rn, !!!!</p><p>anyway, quarantine is doing many a vile things to my mental status and venting it out in a softcore porn destiel ficlet seems more therapeutic than the mental youth centre nearby right now.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you’re so right! | destiel ficlet comp.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>sobs. i was trying to write a dinluke fanfiction but i randomly fell back into a little, well-deserved destiel torture. i’ve been writing these random ficlet drabble  things at almost four in the morning because my circadian rhythm was fucking ransacked by goblins and now i can never know peace.</p><p>and also partly because literally fucking hate dean winchester and his stupid little twunk boyfriend and their perfect facial structures and !!!!!! dumbass eyes like i hate those goddamn pretty ass boyfriends !!!!! my enby ass is having mental breakdowns over the gender envy i’m feeling rn, !!!!</p><p>anyway, quarantine is doing many a vile things to my mental status and venting it out in a softcore porn destiel ficlet seems more therapeutic than the mental youth centre nearby right now.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>castiel and dean having a car-ride through the middle of nowhere. matters progress.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">the car lights weren’t jarring and the chair still and snug. in dean’s chevy, in my private little seat-abyss of longing, the scenes i dreamed of always began like this. i could lose myself forever in his singular little face, in the odd angles of his beautiful lips. when i imagined these vulgar phrases cast in his voice, they were almost intolerably sweet. but right now? sat right beside him? it was unthinkable that i should voice them myself. it was obscene. gross.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">yes, he was a bad person, if you wanted it straight, and a vicious gossip. but for me, he was a cycle of continual anguish— one that i could no more shut out than an aching tooth. the thoughts were involuntary, hopeless, obsessive. it was for as long as i could remember: he had been the first thing my mind recalled when waking up, and just as swiftly, the last thing that drifted through my mind as i went to sleep, and also during the day, he came to me obtrusively, compulsively, always with a painful, impersonal shock.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">comprised almost entirely of obscenities, guttural verbs, and the word “radical”, dean was almost chlorotic, with a sunken chest, he smoked incessantly, wore cheap thrift shirts that had grayed in the wash, and drank endless cups of sugary darjeeling.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">i might as well begin when we got stranded halfway to nebraska. </span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“gods, if we get mauled by bears on this road tonight, it’ll be your fault.” </span><span class="s1">dean ran his hand through his hair and gave me a dulcet smile. </span>"i’ll drink to that-“ he said, hand still in his hair, arm now resting on the sill of the car window, “-listen, i’m sorry it’s been such a hard day for you-“ i glared at him, harsh and impersonal till he backed his hands up in a feigning gesture of surrender, “AND for dragging you here with me, sorry.” i turned to face the window, glowering outside, still livid.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“smells like a drunken diabetic’s piss in here.” dean tried pathetically to initiate some sort of conversation. him and i both sat in a grating silence before the latter cleared his throat, announcing that he had to go and have a smoke before getting out of the cramped chevy.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">the sound of the battering gale and the guttural humming of the idle car engine were my only companions as my eyes tried to focus desperately on anything other than dean’s figure in the not-so-far distance.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">he, obviously, wasn’t aware how hard it was to simply not stare at someone. besides, there wasn’t anything particularly extraordinary outside either; the road had clearly been neglected and aside from the strangely intense atmospheric discharges, there were no other electrical emanations of any kind that i could detect, nor any sign of city lights or aerial activity. we were completely lost. bored at the “scenery” outside, my eyes wandered to dean, who still stood, one hip jutted out slightly, with a hand atop it while the other manned the continuous to-and-fro movement of his cigarette.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">a peek. a little gloss over. he wouldn’t notice. so i did. i peeked. at his </span>bare arms. curse him for being all tight muscle with ivory skin and a vulgarly soft mouth! and curse him for having fair hair, and impersonal eyes with the grace of a cat and deft, cool hands. i felt like a pathetic high-schooler. and i needed a drink.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">in the wind, dean shifted his weight, the gray spirals of his mounting cigarette smoke idly accumulating around him. he seemed to be in an inwardly reflective mood: eyes afar, hands- as if misplaced and forgotten about. he tapped his half-burned out cigarette and took another long drag. he looked like a miscreant with his rattily cropped, chestnut hair, the waist of a woman, the hips of a man. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">i have had a long-standing crush on dean winchester, but, to say it outright, it was all talk. sam suspected i would turn into a jittering mass of nerves if dean ever actually consented to go out with me. not that dean knew, and not that he would go out with me if he knew. and it was hopeless and i knew it and yet i have no urge to further infatuate myself with him. no urge, whatsoever. i don’t expect him to tell me he loves me because, frankly, i don’t want him to and i know he won’t. it was as simple as that.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">dean seemed to have burned out his last cigarette and was now making his way back to the chevy. i regained my composure, the small influxes of lividity from our previous conversation slowly coming back to me. the heavy click of the door, the slam. the warmth of his presence filled the seat beside me. </span>
</p><p class="p1">he cleared his throat, timidly, readjusting and shifting his weight every so often so the silence didn’t become unbearable. “so. we can talk about something. or not talk  about something,” dean announced, “but i’m here.” </p><p class="p1">i said nothing. what was i supposed to say? “wow, what a dick.” dean’s green-flecked brown eyes twinkled with the hint of amusement.</p><p class="p1">my heart fluttered. it had only been a few hours, but it felt like a lifetime since i last saw him smile. i felt seriously addicted to him.</p><p class="p1">dean seemed to notice my little shift in mood and gave a chuckle as he leaned down to pull the brake and tried to get the engine to start up again. i decided not to say or do anything further until the car suddenly jolted to life with a heavy, shuddering groan.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">dean slapped the wheel with the feverish happiness of a child. he glanced over at me, still smiling, and i couldn’t help but peacefully receive the gesture. “hey, listen,” dean pulled down the visor mirror, shifting his hair a bit offhandedly, “if you can’t be happy, you could at least be drunk? i’m sure there’s a bar around here.” dean gave a few poses in the mirror, before ultimately opting to scramble up the back of his hair. maybe some attempt to make himself look attractive, not that it worked— he was attractive as it was anyway.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“looks good," i said lamely. </span> <span class="s1">"it </span> <span class="s2"> <em>is</em> </span> <span class="s1"> good.” dean agreed. “yeah.” i looked away, profusely red.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">dean suddenly looked at me, letting go of his hair, as his hands twisted into each other, shy, as if his sudden self-consciousness felt foreign and strange to him. i don’t think i realised how deadpan and serious i probably looked at that moment. there was a long awkward silence, but if dean thought i regretted my words, i couldn't tell.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">dean’s hands nervously straightened  themselves out, landing on the two sides of his seat, with coquettish awkwardness.<br/>
<br/>
i didn’t realised how close our seats were. the only thing separating our bodies was the brake. were we sharing the same air? maybe we were, because i was light-headed.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">we didn’t need any words to sponge up the darkness of the car, almost shoulder to shoulder in the yellow light of the interiors. “alright, lets get out of this shithole...” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">dean stared forward, one hand on the steering wheel as he began reversing out of the little creek we had found ourselves in. soon enough, we were on the road, slightly shuddering but a smooth drive regardless. the hunter of the engine droned on.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">the radios were down, only static played, that of which neither of us wanted to listen to. “hey dean,” i said. dean turned to face me, one arm lying out the open window, lazily. “aren’t we going a little too fast?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br/>
</span>he gave a dry laugh, slightly feverish and mad, i wondered if he was alright. “what? i thought angels couldn’t die?” “my immortality is not some excuse you can use every time you do something reckless, dean, slow down, you’re going to get yourself killed.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">dean seemed to take no account of my words and leaned out of his seat, craning his neck as far as he could out the window, trying to catch the wind in his mouth and ratty hair. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“no offense intended, dean, but you’re going off the road. off the road! dean! you’re going off the road!” dean was snapped out of his reverie by my distress, and he glared at me.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“no, i’m not; shut up,” he snapped as he guided the impala back onto the road, narrowly avoiding overturning in the ditch. </span>“dear god, this is how you’re going to die,” i said. “crammed pathetically in  a nowhere ditch.” </p><p class="p2">“oh, please,” dean scoffed. “you’d still grovel over my dead body, you and i both know it.” we both sat in silence until we passed a flickering billboard.</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“getting closer to humanity, that’s a sign.” </span>i said.</p><p class="p2">“see, i told you! if only you’d let me drive faster, we’d have been home by now.” i let out a cynical yelp of laughter,</p><p class="p2">“what are you laughing at angel? something funny?” dean said with a grin. i cleared my throat, “just thinking about how horribly sad your love life must be.” </p><p class="p2">dean let out a slightly pained chuckle, “actually, i’ve never been in a real relationship with anyone and actually liked it.” “<em>oh</em>?”</p><p class="p2">“i mean, yeah, i’ve had a few interesting flings and, yeah, they were exciting but nothing really got my blood running, you know what i mean, cas?” dean gabbily gestured while driving with one hand.</p><p class="p2">“not so surprising,” i said, “for a guy like you.” dean seemed to not understand, waving it off. “and you?” he asked, “you’ve never had a ‘horribly sad’ love life?”</p><p class="p2">i shook my head, he looked mortified. “<em>never</em>?”</p><p class="p2">“not once.”</p><p class="p2">“<em>not even a first kiss?</em>”</p><p class="p2">“once.”</p><p class="p2">dean looked somewhat relieved. “so, tell me about it. <em>was she good</em>?” i blinked lamely. “no, but he wasn’t bad either.” the car jerked violently before zig-zagging back to a steady pace.</p><p class="p2">“what?” i asked, slightly disgruntled. dean bumbled messily, “not-nothing! i mean, hey! whatever man, it’s cool.” “what’s cool?” “kissing a dude,” dean mumbled, unclearly, “or whatever.”</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">i leaned back, somewhat mollified at the response i had roiled out of him. “well, dean, i wouldn’t say that they were strictly a male. angels are frankly genderless, unless they wish themselves not to be.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “so how did it go?” dean tried to ask, as casually as his voice allowed him to. i thought to myself, “well, strictly speaking, the fusion of two angels, the sun’s heat and a god’s purity, it transforms the two once implacable grey entities into an object d' art. that is how it went.” “...” dean hit the heel of his palm against the steering wheel with a nod and a bite of his lip, “that great, huh?” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“not really, no.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“so? if you wanted to have that first kiss again, how would it go?” dean glanced over at me. i looked back at him, </span>“hypothetically, of course? i can’t quite literally go and have my first kiss again.” dean gave a sardonic roll of his eyes, “well shit, castiel?” </p><p class="p2">i thought for a moment before answering. “preferably, my first kiss would be in a desolate shell of some heavy old public building, or under the starry sky in a floodlit castle, i wouldn’t have it any other way. it has to be suitably romantic. has to be-has to be- you do understand don’t you, dean?”</p><p class="p2">dean, to my surprise, did seem to be listening quite intently, and he shifted his driving arm to the other.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“so, let me get this straight,” he said. “you haven’t kissed since then because the setting isn’t ‘suitably romantic’?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">“but then, a moment like that isn’t just about romance. a proper kiss, a proper courtship. there’s a way these things should be done.”</p><p class="p2">“by<em> ‘kissing under the starry sky in a floodlit castle’</em>?” dean repeated. “certainly.” i replied. dean took a shaky, exasperated breath, closing his eyes, “god, you really are just the sappiest angel, aren’t you?” dean said.</p><p class="p2">“well, we don't exactly like to admit it, but the idea of submitting ourselves to be at the same level of a mortal is one that fascinates controlled people such as angels, more than almost anything.”</p><p class="p2">“‘controlled’?” dean asked. i looked around me, “well its not like we can go around doing whatever we want, dean, unlike you humans,” i gestured to dean, who gave me a disgruntled look, “—we’re always being watched by our superiors.”</p><p class="p2">“huh.” dean stared at the road ahead of us, seemingly endless, amalgamating into the blackness of the night somewhere at the end.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“well can’t you just- <em>break</em> the rules. just once?” dean broke the silence again. i sighed, he obviously wasn’t getting the point.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“its hard to put things right after that. angels don’t often get that chance. sometimes all you can do is not get caught. as shown in the unfortunate case of morningstar.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">dean nodded, “so... i suppose you’ve never had human-angel relationships then.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2"><em>no, but i’m hopelessly, sickly in love with you</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“well, for you humans, <em>trapped in biology and such</em>, there is little mercy: you live a while, fuss around a bit and then die, rotting in the ground like waste. time destroys us all soon enough. but for an angel to love, and eventually lose a mortally bound lover, it’s a deathless thing. it can break bonds stronger than the temporal. is a metaphysical uncoupling all its own, a truly startling new flavor of despair. angels rarely ever recover from that. they all go insane and fall from the skies.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">dean swallowed, tapping his finger on the steering wheel, as if unsure about what to do with the information he had just been given.</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“not so good, huh?” “not really, dean, no.” </span>another layer of awkwardness fell between us. dean bit his lip, “so, <em>what</em>, you’re just going to live forever, loveless for the rest of eternity being god’s little bitch?” i let out a pitiful breath, “we can’t choose what we want and don’t want- and that’s the hard, cold truth. and we can’t escape who we are.” dean slammed the brakes on the impala and we flew forward with the heady inertia.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“goddamit cas, i’m not talking about the other fucking <em>angels</em>, i’m talking about <em>YOU</em>. what do <em>YOU</em> want?” dean’s body was full of some inexplicable rage. every red sinew. it was easy to sense. he spoke volumes with a clenched fist and mottled lips. <em>but why? </em>did my dutifulness anger him? “i...?” dean ushered me on, “yes, <em>you</em>, what do <em>you, castiel, </em>want?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “i don’t suppose i know. i’ve never had the opportunity to think about it, i’m an angel, my job is to be the messenger, the deliverer, not the hedonist.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> “but think about it, anything in the world, what do you want, say it, for me,” dean turned to face me fully: unwavering gaze, unflickering eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“i suppose... maybe... a rush. a feeling. something i could never see coming, just to know how it feels like to be mortal, to not know what would-“</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">at first, it was almost as if i hadn't wanted to kiss him. his mouth was hard on mine, taut; and then he put both arms around me and pulled me against him. his lips softened.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1"> i </span><span class="s1">could feel the fleeting palpitations of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples in his mouth. </span>the odour of humans— always a fleshy odour — that is, a sinful odour. is this what ‘unplanned’ was for humans? they never saw these things coming? they lived like this?</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">that brief moment of being competently blank and confused had brought me more sensations than my centuries of immortality. my hands had wound into dean’s hair, his unkempt, dirty hair, as i’d wanted to do since the first time i saw him. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">my heart was like a mallet, beating and thumping hard against my ribs like a bat, eager to get out, and there was a rushing sound in my ears, like pelting stones.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“is this unexpected enough for you?” dean murmured, his breath hot and hovering over my neck, before deepening the kiss. he held my free hand across his chest, while his other hand slid across my neck, which trembled with the beats of my jugular. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">his touch was unbearably tender, sending a shiver that travelled down my spine and into my legs, which were, by now, having a hard time keeping me sitting still.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">my palms could feel dean’s heart battering against his chest, and i could smell the faint smell of marlboro cigarettes still peppering his warm breath, and i felt the light stubble on his cheeks, a sandpapery contrast to the unbraced-for softness of his lips, and he was right looking at me and i was looking back at him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> i broke from the progressing kiss, my fingers clenching around dean’s biceps. “don’t,” i said, my voice hoarser than i expected. “why not? we could’ve stopped earlier, but you didn’t want to, i saw the look in your eyes.” dean’s low tone made my gaze shudder and my legs tremble.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">i mumbled something incoherent but dean grabbed onto the sides of my face with youthful fervour: punch-drunk and red-faced. “hey, didn’t you say you wanted to know what it felt like to not know it all?” i didn’t reply. “let me show you.” i tried futilely, to resist, “wait but what if-“ </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">i barely got the desperate words out before dean had me scrabbling back into the car door with him slowly beginning to climb over my defenceless and stunned body.</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">at first, his lips were gentle, exquisitely careful, as if he feared bruising me. but then, as per his dean-like self, he grew impatient and restless, coaxing me into giving him more, which i couldn’t say i didn’t </span> <span class="s2">want</span> <span class="s1"> to do.</span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">this kiss wasn't gentle, but it was mind-searing. he pried opened my lips with his desperate tongue, invading me angrily. so much for ‘personal space’, i thought madly, glancing around in confusion. how had i ever thought this man — uninterested in bedding me?<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">i curved my back so my body fit the tight space of the car, and dean coaxed my hips into releasing their tension. he pulled away, panting hard, his face gothic and vulgar: a scene out of my fantasies, with smoky eyes and red-marled lips. "tell me what you want," he said, his breath searing my lips. "or i'll do worse than this. i'll take you here and now, all of it. is that what you want, cas?"</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2"> <em>well...</em> </span>
</p>
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